


Gentle Gratitude

by sassyseme



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Casual pace, Slice of Life, unlikely companions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27666740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassyseme/pseuds/sassyseme
Summary: Sten is concerned by the doe-eyed nature of the warden; must she frolick while the blight is upon them?
Relationships: Sten & Female Tabris (Dragon Age), Sten/Female Tabris (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 1





	Gentle Gratitude

**Author's Note:**

> I accept that I’ll never be able to romance Sten, but here is my Sten and female Tabris traveling headcanon.

Sten squints his eyes over the soft tousled head of hair with its back to him. He’s glaring _very_ hard as the elf bobs through the tall grass, appearing small and _weak._ Defenseless would darkspawn stampede through. Tabris’s sword is lying four feet away, far enough to be kicked away should the need for battle arise.

Rory shares a concerned look with Alistair before the “Stop calling me a-” prince shakes his head and mouths jumbled words. The jumble conveys the message that starting trouble with the qunari isn’t worth it, nor is asking why he has been _creepily_ staring at their warden for ten consecutive minutes.

Rory sighs, shaking his red head, then crosses his arms to concede. It’s the warden’s own fault that she allows that _odd_ behavior, or freed the beast in the first place. The witch once asked, that’s how he knew Sten wasn’t interested in relationships as wasn’t per _the Qun_. But lady Tabris is beautiful, thus, no man should be trusted near her, or woman for that matter. His eyes glance at Leliana humming a tune and brushing one of the horses, then back to Sten.

“Freak of nature-” Rory murmurs, catching his breath as Sten’s head snaps to him, eyes intense and framed by his smooth grey brow.

Alistair looks at Rory, then Sten, patting an armored hand over Rory’s shoulder awkwardly. “C-come on. L-let’s get the carriage ready-” 

Sten turns his head to the two warriors confused. _Do they need to polish their blades or brains?_ He blinks down at Asala glittering back at him. She’s almost saying that she is shiny enough. He’d lost time wiping his hand across the sword with careful strokes, and now their surroundings were clearer, as was the camp in the daylight, and the eerily calm ambiance around the camp’s field.

“Focus-” he says quietly to himself. The word is futile as his eyes follow the bobbling head of tousled hair again through the grass. _What are you-_ He releases a breath, taking in the air of their mid-day campsite. “Focus. Blight. Darkspawn. Qun.”

His legs force his large body to rise and he sheaths the sword, stretching his back muscles from their cramped position. Sitting always feels like a chore at his size. Yet that elf sits and crawls in the grass any chance she can get. Sten’s eyes shift to the carriage once more, watching the warrior simpletons fumble with pales of water. “Two vasheden.” And then he unfolds a pouch of war paint, peering into a small mirror to re-dress his facial marks in the meantime.

~*~

“Kadan,” Tabris says.

Sten turns around to see her staring up at him with two hands folded behind her waist, rocking back and forth on her feet.

“Kadan?” he asks. 

She grins, eyes mischievous or confident, he can’t tell. “Yes! You call me that, so can’t I call it to you?” The wind blows.

“As you wish.” He notes her stuffed pockets, making her shorts look comically large in comparison to her legs. A sore sight for the elf that must end the blight. _Sigh,_ the elf he chose to follow. “What were you doing over there in that brush?”

“What?” She blinks, stopping her motion. His face is unmoving, searching her colorful eyes for answers until she smirks this time, recognizably smug. “You’d like to know my secret quest?”

Sten doesn’t move, but his hand twitches slightly and his face hardens, feeling taller with the storm cloud over his head taking up additional space. “Yes. I demand to know what is more important-”

“-than stopping the blight?” she finishes and rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “Well, I was looking for a specific root that I can use to make poison.”

He opens his mouth.

 _“And_ _before_ you say that is underhanded and not becoming of a true warrior”--she rushes, taking a breath--“It will slow down or even kill darkspawn that I do hit _thus_ allowing me to kill _more_ darkspawn and end the battle quicker!”

She smiles up at his blank face, hands placed on her hips, watching the expression he has when absorbing new knowledge. Then he breathes out through his nose, face stern again. “Very well.”

With a cock of her head, she walks toward the exit of their clearing that leads to the road, and he shifts his heavy steps to follow, ignoring the glances of the group. The wind blows through her hair and she catches the strands with a hand, brushing them into place. Why not simply tie it back? 

“I think we will leave soon, we’ve rested enough,” she says, crossing her arms, eyes locked into the distance of trees, road, and sky.

He nods, looking forward to see what she sees. “As you wish.”

The words make her smile. “So, next time...” Tabris crosses her arms, angling her head slightly to look from one eye. “Just ask what I’m doing instead of staring. There’s only so many times I can assure Rory that you won’t kill me in my sleep.”

Sten glares, expression cold as he stops his pace in the grass. “I will not.” She laughs, rubbing her head awkwardly as he growls slightly. “If I wished you harm, it would come, kadan. And I do not.”

“I-I know, goodness, lighten up.” His face is blank suddenly, forcing her to cock her head up. “Did I offend you?”

Sten meets her glance, a scholarly look about him. “No. What does it mean to,” his tone changes, “ _lighten_ up?” 

Tabris snaps a hand over her mouth, holding in a laugh. “Maker, you usually know more words than me. We really need to work on the plainspeak of different cultures thing... pretty much, you say it to...”

Sten listens to her fast explanation and then nods, following her pace once more through the grassy path next to the road. Her walk is casual, accompanied by a slight hum, but he watches her careful steps through the grass, hardly leaving prints. Each mark on a tree and footprint in the dirt does not pass her keen eyes by, nor his. 

“There were-”

“Darkspawn.”

“Yes. They’ve must’ve passed by a day out.” She sighs, seeing no traces of scouts that would leave marks so they knew where to return. It bothers her, though, noting the few caravans they’d seen on their journey. “Maybe we shouldn’t have rested.” _Some people could have walked right into a hoard._

He says nothing, a hand resting on his hilt as he walks.

She shakes her head. “The blight will save more than not stopping it at all.”

“As you wish-” He flinches slightly, looking at her sudden wide-eyed expression. “Why are you looking like that?” 

“Like what?” She bats her eyelashes.

Sten glares, stopping pace again. “Like a doe-eyed defenseless deer against the darkspawn. Do you need a lesson in awareness of surrounding?”

Tabris rolls her eyes, huffing so hard the fur _stolen_ Tevinter shawl at her shoulders wheezes. “You really are the most _shit-talking_ qunari I have ever laid eyes upon, learning this tongue just to be flippant and then not knowing plain phrases!”

Sten’s expression grows stoic and his voice hardens. “Perhaps, Fereldens should not make their language so easy to learn, or stare off when a _blight_ is upon them.”

She sighs, leaning into a hip. “You have me there. Next, even the darkspawn will be sassing me on the battlefield, and if they make it to Orlais, they’ll critique my choice of dress until I throw down my sword.” 

He coughs back a laugh, prompting her to look up at him with a grin as his face contorts back to its typical look, albeit softer eyes and jaw. “Be it so.”

A moment passes, leaves rustling in her ears, small caws of animals as she looks over his face. Beige paint glistens in a pattern of lines that leads down to his neck and swirls over his chest, disappearing into a vest. 

“I really like the war markings, it’s quite ferocious.” 

Sten turns his head. “Your shawl of dead-kill is also quite ferocious.”

“You are an ass, though.”

“Thank you.”

They look at one another for a moment, her eyes quizzing him while he attempts to decipher one of the many looks she dons while thinking.

“Here should be far enough.”

Sten shifts. “Very well. Come.” She nods, swallowing as she approaches him, standing closer and tilting her head up to avoid seeing only his chest. His hands place themselves at her hips, carefully raising her with a slight grunt.

“I am not that heavy.” She scrunches her cheeks and then beams with a new thought. “Or am I? That’s quite a good thing to be gaining muscle for a fight.”

“Hush,” he says, settling her close enough to rest her elbows at his chest.

Her voice rushes, feeling air underneath her feet and light in her stomach. “And, we definitely _don’t_ have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable. I mean it could have been a joke, right? Not that I’d joke with you. You don’t have to return any favors for Asura-I mean Asala, or- or-”

“Kadan.”

She freezes, feeling her heart beat as he brings his face closer to hers. His thick skin is smooth and warm like worn leather under her fingertips. 

“Satiate your curiosity, and then return to the blight.” 

Swallowing her heart, she nods, placing the hand at his cheek to motion his face closer. _I didn’t think you’d take it seriously._ The thought leaves her and is replaced with a daring feeling as she meets his impatient eyes.

His arm holds her steady as she releases her other hand to cup his face. Fingers trace between hard metal-like skin over the paint and then smooth skin closer to his lips. She places her mouth over his, pressing slightly, surprised that his lips feel warm to the touch. 

Tabris squints her eyes at him until he breathes out through his nose, lifting her higher to push his lips further into the kiss. Then he lowers her partially, staring down at her flushed pointed ears.

“Is that the return you seek?”

She nods quickly. “Yes!”

Sten attempts to place her squirming body back onto the ground but she jumps down a foot of the way with a weightless thump. Her arms sway back and forth, a humming tune coming from her as she gains a few feet on him.

“Well,” her voice is calm as she whips around and spreads a mischievous smile. Yes, now he recognizes the look. _Mischievous._ “I’ll consider that the first installment.” 

The words force Sten to widen his eyes, unable to speak at first. “Y-you-!”

She laughs, prancing down the road to continue their scouting, leaving him to sigh and rub a palm against his forehead. A cold chuckle escapes him, finding humor in such a poor predicament. What woe it is to be bested by an elf at anything other than poverty.

“As you wish, kadan.” He almost smiles, concealing the motion quickly to follow her lest she runs into a hoard alone.

***


End file.
